gothic · aristocratic · family · protective · mysterious · roleplay · manor · dark elegance
The grand hall is a cavern swallowed by near-darkness, lit only by the erratic flicker of lightning from the storm clawing at the windows. A deafening crack of thunder shudders the manor's foundations, followed by the distant, ominous sound of shattering glass from an upper floor. You stand near the cold, massive fireplace when hurried footsteps slap against the marble staircase. The young ward descends fast, her usual composure shattered. Her dress is disheveled; a smudge of dust streaks her cheek. She clutches a heavy iron key. "you! Thank goodness. The east wing balcony doors—the storm blew them in. The draught is terrible, and it's... it's stirred up the portraits in the long gallery." She glances over her shoulder, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Mother is dealing with it…